Chapel of Hope Stories

Dear Reader:

Are you like me… do you think some words begin to make you weary, honestly grate on your nerves, through overuse … by just listening to another ” self-help” guru use them… just one time too many?

If I happen to have the television on and hear some guest on a talk show commence to help everyone in the audience find their ” authentic ” selves I find myself grabbing the remote and frantically clicking it to another channel… any channel. ( Well… almost any channel)

Yesterday I was reading a magazine article on accepting yourself as you are now-not in the past or perhaps in the future but now. ( No problem so far) and then came the next line… the author concluded we must look in the mirror at our ” authentic ” selves and let our mantra be ” I am what I am … and what I am is amazing… and authentic!”

As I was cringing, suddenly the connection sparked…. slowly I repeated ” I am what I am”… and then burst out laughing. Popeye! The author was quoting Popeye. ” I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam… I’m Popeye the Sailor Man!” He must have been the first ” authentic” personality!

The thing you had to love about Popeye was, unlike Olive Oyl, ( always putting on airs) he was quite content being who he was while Olive was always trying to change him into something he wasn’t. For example when Olive said ” she didn’t want to be with someone who was ” an unedumacated ignoramus” Popeye declared then he would become an ” edumacated” ignoramus… just for her.

( Of course every time Olive got in trouble it was Popeye ( after eating his can of spinach) who would save her from disaster… again ) Then she loved him whole/heartedly until he irritated her again. Now I ask you-who was being more ” authentic?”?

So until tomorrow… ( double dog dare you) Look in the mirror and shout out ” ” I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam.” ( Have a good day to me!)

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

***** After the post yesterday on Alexander Hamilton and all the amazing social projects Eliza founded to honor her husband’s legacy… it is now Eliza’s living legacy being honored for her philanthropy. What once was the first private orphanage in NYC, is still in existence and thriving-renamed Graham Windham, this non-profit establishment serves thousands of children and families -offering family counseling, health services, after school free tutoring and free school supplies.

Lin Manuel Miranda, creator and starring role of Hamilton, it’s whole cast and crew have donated profits from the highly successful Broadway show directly to helping this foundation -reportedly in the millions of dollars.

Lin performs there annually as a fundraiser and to celebrate and remember Eliza’s birthday and this 216 year old gift of love to the orphans and needy children of NYC that she founded.

Recently a portrait of Eliza and the original theater attire worn by Lin Miranda as Hamilton was given to the Smithsonian.

The monsoons continue… the yard and gardens are starting to get a little mushy under all the storms recently but Gin-g saved me by bringing an arrangement of beautiful zinnias that just matched my lamp colors! Thanks Gin-g!

Dear Reader:

Saturday night was one of those long-drawn -out nights where sleep just eluded me. I don’t have many of those nocturnal episodes much anymore but when I do – it is quite frustrating. I fell asleep at 10 -woke up around midnight and finally crashed again around 5. I didn’t wake up, the next time, until around 10 am Sunday morning-and I was walking around in a semi-daze -off-kilter way all day.

But I did take advantage of the time to listen to some of my favorite songs from the Broadway hit-Hamilton while listening in the darkness! This time around it was the last song “Eliza Hamilton” sings as a final good-bye to her deceased husband Alexander…. that sent my thoughts spiraling out into the dark silence.

Eliza would live fifty years more after her husband’s death-she died at the age of 97. She would become a social activist helping Dolley Madison with her fund-raiding platform to lay the foundation for the Washington Monument.

She threw her life into raising her children and fighting to protect her husband’s legacy through turning over 1000’s of handwritten manuscripts to be preserved in the Library of Congress, as well as, public libraries -like the New York Public Library.

But it wasn’t until she founded an orphanage in New York to help children in need -the city’s first private orphanage for hundreds of children ( Orphan Asylum Society) that she realized she could honor her husband’s memory while helping children who had lives similar to Alexander’s ( he had been orphaned at a tender age in the Caribbean and only got to America to study by a group of benefactors who recognized his intellect and raw talent from a newspaper article he wrote.)

This lead Eliza to promote and support a free school( Hamilton Free School) for parents who couldn’t afford a private education and had no benefactors-like the ones who turned her husband’s life completely around.

*** Today scholarships are still given out here to deserving students to attend Columbia University.

As I listened to ” Eliza” explaining to her deceased husband how she decided to ” tell his story ” to preserve his life and legacy my mind suddenly skipped over to another Disney movie-an animated children’s movie called COCO (2017) .

I discovered this remarkable movie from the backside of a project Rutledge wanted me to participate in after he initially watched it. Mollie called and asked if I could bring a picture of my parents and grandparents to put up in Rutledge’s bedroom.

Curious I asked Mollie what was behind this sudden interest in the family tree-she replied COCO!

The movie is about a little Mexican boy named Miguel who has an amazing adventure on the holiday -The Day of the Dead. .. a holiday to remember the dead. It is while Miguel is allowed into the Land of the Dead for a short visit that he learns a very important lesson -the importance of memory and how we should always tell stories of our family members and the lives they lead when they lived in earth.

Miguel learns that no one really dies or disappears until there is no one left living who can tell their loved one’s story. ” If there is no one left in the living world to remember you -you disappear from this world. ” (Rutledge didn’t want this to happen in our families-thus the wall of memories. )

Eliza was married to Alexander Hamilton for almost a quarter of a century before his death by Aaron Burr. She burned most, but not all, their love letters -her letters to her husband always started off ” My Hamilton” and ended with ” Tenderest Affection.”

They both loved gardening and at the time of Alexander’s death-they had planned to create a large apple orchard. Their dreams of a garden, like no other, touched me. But his last letter to Eliza was written the morning of the ( now) famous duel. . It was only then he confessed to the upcoming duel and he said as a Christian he would not aim at Burr but twelve feet over his head. A bullet found in a high limb cemented the fact he did just that-but obviously it was not reciprocated-Burr shot Hamilton in the stomach. It was an agonizing death until its end the next day.

After giving thought to keeping memories alive after our own departures… I am so thankful the ” children” got me started on the StoryWorth year/long project of sharing my memories, history and ancestral personalities with those left behind. Thanks Mollie for spearheading this long-term but important endeavor!!!

The last question asked me to leave one final message for my grandchildren and great grandchildren… this I am keeping personal except for one final thought….

So until tomorrow… What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone, but what is woven into the lives of others. ( That should be everyone’s legacy.)

Dear Reader:

When I first saw today’s visual title message… I was skimming the internet and initially read it as ” I’m a simple person who just likes long walks in the book.” ( no aisles) Not that I don’t like walking through book aisles too, but my initial perception immediately centered on the fact that every time I start a new book… I am starting a new journey… I am literally walking in someone else’s world. My hope is that I will learn something new about myself along the trip.

A book to me is a ” walk away” opportunity to leave the world, in all its rotating craziness and scary instability, behind and instead embrace new thoughts and ideas that re-enforce the goodness of new possibilities in rebuilding a ” better” world for us all. We need to, not only look for the Good in each day, but live it.

One observation that tugs at me occasionally is how it seems that the older our senior loved ones get… their habits change to a somewhat bizarre interest. Where I glance at the news headlines each morning on early morning shows… I leave it there too. But I have noticed and then remembered mother watching the early 24/7 national news channels… all day every day. No longer watching her favorite soap opera, game show, even her beloved Golden Girls.

Was it just having human voices talking around her or something else? Today if I visit Ben in his room/his television is blaring on the same news channel day in and out. I know of other older friends whose televisions are repeating the same ” ritual”? My first instinct is to turn it off or at least turn it down.

Maybe I have given someone looking for a thesis idea a heads-up? Why, in the endless wonderful opportunities of our twilight years, would anyone want to ” ruin” it watching troubling environmental issues, political mayhem, wars and talks of war, and other depressing aspects of life every waking minute of the day? What an a-skewed world to choose to live in????

I want to be around friends who are still following their dreams, I want to remain grateful that I can still be a part of watching my family grow and make memories that will last long after I am gone. (In other words…) I am still excited about future surprises in store for me!)

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Don’t you remember counting steps as a child playing games outside that required a certain number of steps to be measured (as in variations of Hide and Seek?) And even if we don’t remember it… our parents probably counted out gleefully our first baby steps while we were learning to walk! From our first steps until our last… lives are measured in going the distance… literally and figuratively.

The other day I discovered this picture and explanation to a new word ” bematists” ! ( be still my pattering heart)

After reading the definition and explanation… I was more fascinated than ever. Bematists were recognized and their jobs recorded in both ancient Egypt and Ancient Greece archives.

They were the first “pacemakers”… they measured the length of expeditions by measuring distances that required counting each individual step from start to finish… pace by pace… step by step. And amazingly, as evidence shows from Alexander the Great’s campaign in Asia… they were highly accurate … even by modern standards!

One thought that popped in my mind was how interesting it would be to see the Three Wise Men being followed by bematists… looking down at their feet counting each step… pacing, always pacing. How long really was that trip?

So until tomorrow… Aren’t we taught, from early on, to take life step by step? It isn’t always easy to do… we humans like to jump ahead… I am certainly guilty of ” Tigger bouncing” from time to time. I think my best steps are prayers…as I move through life from prayer to prayer… thankful for another sunrise.

” Today is my favorite day” Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

I am in love with the weather this past week-it is as if the heavens are smiling down on the Lowcountry… dropping high nineties back into the more comfortable 80’s with ( most importantly) much lower humidity. First time in many years that the start of school coincided with more early fall-like conditions ( especially in the back-to-school early mornings)!

My favorite time lately has been watching the afternoon and/ evening thunderstorm showers arrive … bringing softer breezes and lighter rains. The kind that makes the world smell so fresh … like taking clean laundry out of the dryer or off the line. A fresh breath of air that seems to makes the world feel and smell cleaner.

I hope the following story is readable for everyone-it is one of my favorite stories-but after two posts to prepare for yesterday-I just didn’t have the energy to retype the whole story again.

Isn’t that the most comforting thought in the world that a tiny child, fighting for her life, remembers God … “that the smell of fresh rain smelled like God when she would lay her head on His chest?”

So until tomorrow… On earth we have only five senses but I suspect that a whole new world of senses will be open to us in our next life, don’t you? And if God’s scent is the fresh smell after a rain shower I will be ecstatic!

Dear Reader:

By now you early bird readers know that I was ” late… for a very important date-today’s writing! Chalk it up to having a ” Ding-bat” moment yesterday and once again leaving my mobile phone -this time at Eva ‘s restaurant! Didn’t realize it until after they closed yesterday.

” Everyday will still be my favorite day” aka Winnie the Pooh ( for simply waking up) but now I think I should start signing off ( not ” Old Faithful” but ” ” Old Forgetful.” )

So here’s some prose and a comment for today’s post and hopefully get back on track tomorrow!

There is still so much to love about this world but we rarely are going to find it in the news… except for the last five minute good news closure segment. Yet everyday amazing stories of kindness, sacrifice, friendship and love abound. And each time we hear such a story , doesn’t our renewed hope kindle and burn brightly once again?

Poet Mary Oliver has this uncanny talent of expressing the goodness in the world through lyrical harmony and visual soothing images. A perfect example of this is….

” My Work is Loving This World”

My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird-equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. Here the clam deep in speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn? Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and yearning to be astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium. The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture, which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here, which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body clothes, a mouth with which to give shouts of joy-to the sleepy dug/up clam, telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever.

So until tomorrow… after re-reading the poem the thought came to me that if everyone born on earth would look at their purpose here, within the context of ” loving the world as their work” … what a beautiful world we would all enjoy together. If we truly lived the world, no matter what pursuit of work we carried with us-we would never intentionally harm it.

” Today is my favorite day! ” Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Today when we talk about a ” conversation piece” we can be referring to anything from a strange sculpture or crazy abstract painting to bizarre architecture or even just a wild centerpiece on a table.

Originally a ” conversation piece” referred to a group portrait in a domestic or landscape setting depicting persons chatting or otherwise socializing with each other. (The title painting is an example of such an art form created by William Hogarth in 1730- it became a popular art form in 18th century England.)

Think about it… everyday is a prayer because every day we converse. Sometimes (unconsciously) we pray when we are hurt, upset, angry, disappointed, relieved, grateful, when we laugh, cry, at play or work. Moments of time contains billions of conversational prayers within each breath.

Sarah Ban Breathnach ( Simple Abundance) believes ” in its purest form, prayer is conversation… authentic conversation because you don’t have to hold back.”

Have you ever ” spilled your guts” to a friend or cohort and immediately regretted it? Suddenly there is an awkward silence followed by a stare that leaves you thinking you have grown three horns on your head?

But prayer is different… you can say whatever needs to be said without fear of ridicule, judgment, losing love, or being misunderstood. Whew! The nice thing is God knows what our needs are even before we utter the first syllable. So then why lift up our voice in prayer?

It’s not as effective to be silent and just think prayers because we need to get ” real life off our chest.” We can’t do that when our thoughts ( mental prayers) get stuck… they are the ” whirling, topsy-turvey” mental tornadoes that produce those 2 am wide-eyed sleepless nights. We need to talk to Someone Who’s Really Listening.

So until tomorrow… ” In the beginning was the Word . And the Word was with God. And the Word was God.” Might I have a Word?

Today is my favorite day -Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

I am a television volume control operator when I am reading a book but just want to glance at an interesting program occasionally when I look up from the pages.

Up and down goes the volume … this past Sunday I finished the seventh ( next to the last book in the Edisto Island Mysteries) so I made a snack and turned up the volume… I heard a. nice-looking gentleman exclaim : ” Two-thirds of all humans who have ever lived on earth past 65… are alive today! “

” WHAT?… Seriously?”

Before I could recover from that amazing fact… I heard “One half of the children born in modernized countries today-will, not only celebrate their 100th birthday, but some could see their 150th”!!!

” EXCUSE ME?”

The PBS program was called “Life’s Third Age” with Ken Dychtwald. I think most of my Baby Boomer friends ,who were teachers and/or state employees, were happy to just have our state retirement and Social Security benefits … add a small tax/deferred annuity and a life insurance policy and pray hard it would carry us into the sunset.

Instead I hear the commentator project that marketers are now turning their attention to the new Baby Boomer market because many still have thirty more years of life. Consumers over fifty… now account for more than half of all spending and they control over 70% of our country’s net worth! .

Obviously I wasn’t ( and still aren’t) in that Baby Boomer group and obviously they weren’t teachers. But hey… since I was diagnosed with cancer in 2008-and since I was eligible for Social Security Disability Benefits… my mind/boggling medical costs have been basically covered with me picking up a minute leftover amount. The medical costs far exceed the total amount I was salary paid throughout my long teaching career- crazy right? Good crazy but still crazy! God IS GOOD!

And that brings us to the most important question we all most answer? What are we going to do with the years we are given? Do we want to be remembered as a successful entrepreneur or remembered as someone who made a significant difference in others lives?

And it isn’t that we can’t do both… but it does require some re- prioritizing-learning to include others and their welfare in our future plans. Remembering to add lots of new materials and colors to our tapestry of life. A tapestry that made a significant difference to other lives.

So until tomorrow… It is time to consider what a world with a billion people over sixty will look like-how the influence of this age segment will affect society, business, politics, health care and the marketplace . ( I think if they look like Tom Cruise… we should be okay!) 😅

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

One thing we must remember is not to stop dreaming when we ” retire ” -the possibility of a whole new frontier is calling us-we have time!

Today Berkeley County Schools and Dorchester Two schools started their first day of school with Charleston starting Wednesday! Everyone got off to a great start!

After visiting with Ben -I dropped some back to school bags off for the kids and then Mollie and I celebrated the first day of school with lunch out! 🤣

Dear Reader:

No excuses! I got myself back to the closest ” little chapel in the woods” in Summerville-the outside early church service at my church Dorchester Presbyterian.

I woke up to low humidity and low seventies… maybe it was a ” Voice from the Wilderness” calling me but I threw my folding chair in the back seat and headed out. I had forgotten how serene and beautiful this small, intimate gathering was each Sunday.

We are such creatures of habit… once we get out of the routine of doing something … isn’t it easy to fill in the time with different ” routines” … until ‘ what once was’ becomes a distant memory.

The first hymn was ” Christ, Whose Glory Fills the Skies” ( under the category of ” Celebrating Time”) …as we sang the first verse it read ” Dayspring from on high be near…”

Well, you know me and words… I started trying to figure out what a ” Dayspring ” was? At the end of the service… I asked Anne… she re-read the line, shrugging but then predicted she would find out on today’s ” writing.” Old friends know us so well!

Dayspring was the earliest defining description of ” dawn” -the archaic predecessor to the word ” dawn” But it soon came to mean ( also) the beginning of a new era or order… even stages in our lives.

W. B. Yeats, upon writing about growing older, prosed ” It was the dayspring of their youth.” For many children today starting back to school -it truly is ” the dayspring of their youth.” One day so many of their childhood memories will center on school days and favorite teachers and new friends.

Yesterday was also the ” Blessings of the Back Packs” for students-and each one got a plastic bag tag to attach to their back pack.

So until tomorrow… ” Life is only as good as the people you get to share it with…” ( And little do these students know that some of these friends sharing their school day memories will also be a friend for life or a friend who appears when you need someone who knew you then…. who knew you when.)

Today is my favorite day -Winnie the Pooh

I decided this year to give each of my grandchildren a small holding cross that they can use to say prayers at night or in the morning before they leave for school… especially if the older ones have a test or a speech or anything that is troubling them -they can pray squeezing the little wooden cross to ease their anxiousness.

Remember the old joke that circulated over the debate about allowing prayer in school?

So true… but I had a great omen for this being a good year for students and teachers alike… my third moonflower bloomed last evening!!!

Dear Reader:

Honey and I were musing the other day how freeing it is, as retired teachers, to watch the school buses rattle by our homes the first day of school and know we aren’t waiting at the other end to take students to our classrooms.

Don’t misunderstand this retired teachers’ observation… because there will always be a part of our hearts that remain in the silent classrooms of past memories… but the old axiom is true-the one that says ” Teaching is the hardest job you will ever love.”

Teaching, quite honestly, is absolutely exhausting! Some days, as I would watch the buses pull away… my brain was so befuddled that a friend-team teacher and I started a ritual- we would look at each other, count to three, and then simultaneously yell out either ” Fried or Scrambled!”

When teachers admit to being exhausted at the end of a school day …it isn’t as much physical as mental. Sure… tired feet and backs go with the territory…but our brains do feel ” scrambled” or “fried.” Why? Try this fact on for size!

To be more specific… researchers put the ” average ” number of decisions made daily, while teaching at 1500!!! If you like math… it averages out to be 4 decisions per minute) My head is starting to hurt just reading this… but I can believe it because I lived it!

The teacher is the anchor that holds each teaching day grounded – He/she is the support system for hundreds of students, the classroom manager, disciplinarian, content creator and so much more-every question from every student is directed towards one teacher and the questions never stop. That’s how children learn. so the teacher makes unceasing minute by minute decisions throughout each day.

One teacher made a poster showing her brain resembling an internet browser-fast-paced with too many open tabs by the end of the day.) but then there are papers to grade and lesson plans to make for the next day., parents to call… the ” to do” list goes on and on. After all… teachers are the voice for their students.

So until tomorrow… Dear God, Thank you for the amazing and courageous teachers who have devoted their lives to serve our children through these turbulent and trying times.

Be their navigator as they learn new routes to guide their students, give them strength to lead and thrive wherever learning takes root, and bless whatever ” port” their classrooms resemble. Keep teachers and students safe from harm under Your Loving Presence. Amen.

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

A shout-out to my two beautiful, caring nieces who will be returning this week as teachers to students who need a little extra help along their paths. Have a great year girls /so proud of you!!! Love, Aunt Becky

( Bekah)